


Morning Classes Aren't All That Bad... Sometimes

by embracedthevoid



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 00:10:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17570567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embracedthevoid/pseuds/embracedthevoid
Summary: Dan Howells first mistake was going to university, and his second was picking a morning class. But sitting beside a boy with amazing black hair and a smile that could kill, now that was the best decision he ever made.





	Morning Classes Aren't All That Bad... Sometimes

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I experienced something like this happen in front of me the other week and I couldn't help but think if it were Dan and Phil rather than the two boys in front of me. The lovely peeps in my GC convinced me to write it, so here we are. Thank you as always to [imnotinclinedtomaturity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imnotinclinedtomaturity/pseuds/imnotinclinedtomaturity) she's always pushing me to do better and I'll love her for it forever, even when I complain!

The first week of uni is always the worst week. At least, that’s what Dan is told when he’s boarding the train that will take him to the University of Manchester. Not the most encouraging parting words from his father – but hey, it’s something. More than he’s expecting at least.

Dan’s parents had been elated when he told them he was going to be studying law. Throughout the months leading to his departure, Dan’s father always reminded him of what a respectable career it is. For the first time in Dan’s life his father had something to be proud about, and he didn’t hesitate once to tell family friends and coworkers. So why does it feel like this train is leading Dan into a grayscale life filled with one mundane task after another at 125 mph?

Because it is. 

It only takes this short week for Dan to conclude that Law is the most dull and uninteresting degree he could have chosen.

Dan’s entire first week at uni is an absolute _nightmare_. Between going to the wrong classrooms on multiple occasions and finding out he has to write an entire rough draft of a three thousand word essay in a matter of days, Dan is more than ready to call it quits at this point. The only thing that stops him from giving up is the memory of the proud look his father had given him when Dan said he wanted to be a lawyer. He’s never seen his father so proud. He couldn’t let his father down, not when Dan has only just started.

Dan _needs_ this, despite that fact that law completely sucks, he only wants a career that normal people pick. He wants something that he knows can give him a stable future, he just wants something normal. But Dan is beginning to realize normal doesn’t necessarily mean _happy._

He wishes he had known all this before applying to school, but now he’s stuck. He’s stuck throwing away every ounce of fun he will possibly have for the next four years, and probably longer.

Dan spends the Sunday night before the second week of classes laying face down on the sorry excuse for a bed that his dorm provides. His roommate has stopped questioning this behaviour when, after the third night in a row, Dan did this for at least an hour before inevitably rolling over and scrolling through social media on his phone.

The _roommate_ situation is a whole other story. It’s not that Dan doesn’t want to be their friend, he just isn’t good at that sort of thing — the whole _‘normal, everyday communication’_ sort of thing. And his roommate seems to be a huge fan of exactly that. Hell, he probably thinks Dan is the hugest asshole when, in reality, Dan just wants to muster up the energy to get through the day — something that is becoming harder to find as the nights pass and the homework piles up.

With the absolute nightmarish and stress inducing classes he has, Dan can’t help but be agitated by every little thing his roommate does.

On mornings like this _horrible_ Monday morning, for example, Dan wakes up irritated at his alarm. _Why the hell did he think an eight in the morning class was a good idea again?_ He slams the pad of his thumb down on the bottom of the screen to turn the obnoxious thing off – desperate to hit the snooze button instead, but knowing he doesn’t have the time. From the other side of the room, Dan hears his roommate grumble something something about the noise, aggressively rolling over to make a point, which only furthers Dan's anger. _Why the hell couldn’t he have a single-bed dorm?_

Dan ignores his roommate, as he usually does, and forces his arse out of bed. He _seriously_ considers skipping class when he can barely keep his eyelids open, but it’s definitely too early in the semester to skip… right?

Dan hastily pulls on a black pair of jeans and a matching black t-shirt. He quickly brushes his teeth, leaving himself just enough time to do a poor job of straightening his hair. Class is starting soon – _really_ soon – and he definitely doesn’t have to do anything more than a messy once-over.

_Great now he has to go to class looking like a half hobbit._

Trying to avoid his reflection in the mirror that hangs on the backside of the door, Dan rushes outside and down the stairs leading to the first floor of the building. Glancing at his phone Dan is panicked to realize that it’s 7:58am. _Great_ , two minutes to get to a class that’s at _least_ five minutes away.

He’s definitely not starting the second week off on the right foot.

Dan rushes down the pavement, ignoring the questioning looks from other students, who all look about as tired as Dan feels. Out of breath, Dan reaches the classroom just as his fellow classmates begin piling through the open door and to their seats. Dan slips in, trying to conceal how winded he is. Which is rather pathetic considering that the run here really isn’t that far.

Dan hurriedly scans the classroom and notices an empty seat rather close to the back of the room. Quickly, he snags the seat before anyone else can; the further he is from the front the better. Last class, he noticed the professor has a habit of calling on those in the front rows — something Dan’s not sure he’ll ever have the emotional capacity to endure. He’d probably drop dead on the spot.. He should be safe back here. He plops down, thankful to sit down and fucking _recover_ from his run, beside a boy with rather striking black hair.

“No one was sitting here righ–” Dan asks turning to properly face the stranger. He’s caught off guard when his eyes meet staggering blue ones. The boy gives a staggering smile. Swallowing thickly, Dan tries to find his composure and starts over. “Uh, was there anyone sitting here?” Dan asks, rather sheepish this time.

The boy smiles. It’s slightly crooked, but in the most sexy way possible. And somehow, his eyes look up at Dan _so_ endearingly. “Nope. You’re good,” The boy chuckles.

Flustered, Dan riffles through his backpack to find his notebook and feels his cheeks go a deep shade. The boy continues to look at Dan, sparking a pleasant yet nerve-wracking battle in his mind. _Why is he staring?_ Usually Dan hates it when people look at him too long; he immediately thinks they’re judging him or picking out each of his many flaws. But this boy’s gaze makes Dan’s skin feel warm, and despite the flustered effect it has on him, Dan doesn’t want the boy to look away.

Dan fidgets in his seat and the boy moves his books over slightly to make more room.

_His book._

_Shit._ Dan forgot his book _._

“Alright guts, listen up!” The professors brash voice interrupts the murmur of students, beginning class. “Please open your textbooks to page 145 and take a moment to ponder the question presented to you. In fifteen minutes we will each be giving our individual thoughts, and I expect to hear from everyone,” the professor says pointedly, making eye contact with the unfortunate individuals at the front of the class. God, at least Dan had managed to sit back here.

Dan’s hands start to sweat when he realizes everyone's heads are bowing to start reading the material in front of them – problem is, Dan doesn’t have that material. He wonders if he should ditch class now, but the silence hanging over the room is enough to scare Dan into staying put. He doesn’t need that attention brought to him. Somehow that seemed worse than suffering through without the book.

Shifting in his seat, Dan bites his nails as a nauseous feeling grows in his stomach. It’s these types of situations that make dropping out seem like a very enticing option.

There’s a tug on Dan’s sleeve and when he looks for the source, he surprised to find the incredibly attractive guy beside him is trying to get his attention.

“You can share mine,” the boy whispers, sliding his book between them and smiling slightly.

“Thanks,” Dan whispers in return. He feels slightly breathless — partially from panic and partially due to a gorgeously hot guy offering to share his book with him. Dan leans forward, perhaps a bit too much, because their shoulders bump slightly. Dan’s skin tingles at the contact and he glances over at the boy, who’s already looking back at him. The boy flashes that crooked smile that was enough to make Dan swoon the first time — and, turns out, still could this time around. Butterflies fly around in his stomach as he stares at the boy’s gorgeous smile.

Dan bites his lip nervously, looking back to the text. He’s trying so desperately to play it cool, but is failing so miserably. He’s sure it’s obvious how completely entranced he is with the boy, by how many times he’s caught Dan admiring him from the corner of his eye.

“Do you like crisps?” the guy asks rather mischievously. He leans toward Dan slightly, probably in an attempt to hush his words, but the closeness causes his warm breath to brush across Dan’s neck

Dan snaps his head up to look at the boy again, and _nope_ he didn’t get any less gorgeous in thirty seconds Dan was staring at the book. “Uh, do I lik– yeah?” Dan laughs a bit too loud, gaining attention from the girl sharing the table across from them. She smirks to herself then focuses back on her textbook.

“Want some?” the intriguing stranger offers. He grabs a bag from the other side of him, his long fingers holding the bag steady as he offers it to Dan. Dan stares at the boys hands and admires them for a moment too long — as far as hands go, they’re long, slender, and absolutely perfect. Dan clears his throat as a shiver works its way down his spine at the wink he receives when he reaches in to grab a crisp. Dan is delighted when he discovers that they’re Salt & Vinegar, the taste making his mouth water. Dan smirks to himself then at the strange guy beside him. _A man after his own heart_.

“That’s my favourite flavour,” Dan says shyly, his cheeks somehow turning an even darker shade of red.

“Mine too, I guess it’s a good thing we sat together,” he quips flirtatiously, with what looks like a fond smile, still speaking quiet enough for only Dan to hear. “Have as many as you’d like.” He places the bag between them invitingly. Simultaneously, they both reach into the bag, and their hand brush against each others, sending a tingle through Dan’s hand, and shooting up his arm. Dan snatches his hand back immediately, trying to rationalize why this guy – who Dan knows nothing about – has such a heavy effect on him. He, of course, comes up empty handed as he’s too distracted to think about anything other than the way his hand felt against the boy’s. How soft it was. How much he didn’t want the touching to end.

A moment passes as the two read the text in front of them. Or _try_ to read, in Dan’s case. Everything Dan’s eyes skim over doesn’t register one bit. For all Dan knows, this passage could be about a recent spike in cornflakes bought over the last five years. He’s not taking in a single word of it.

He’s too busy focusing on the boy beside him.

“What’s your name?” the boy mutters under his breath, interrupting Dan’s thoughts.

“Hm? My wh- what?” Dan stutters, cringing at how flustered he feels. And from the warmth he can feel on his cheeks, Dan’s sure he’s not hiding it well. This guy probably thinks he’s an idiot. Or that he has some rare skin condition that makes his cheeks _constantly_ red.

“Your name?” the boy chuckles, sticking his tongue between his teeth. “I’m Phil,” he continues when Dan stays silent.

Dan knows he should respond but his brain doesn’t seem to want to cooperate. Instead, he’s sat in shock with his jaw hanging slightly. His mind just can’t wrap itself around the fact that a boy as cute as Phil wants to know _Dan’s_ name.

“Hi,” Dan squeaks forgetting his own name for a second. “I’m... Dan?” Nerves and utter astonishment that this boy is even talking to him make it come out as a question. Dan notices the girl from across the table glance up at them, once again smirking at the two of them. Of course, Dan would have an audience when a stunning man is talking to him, causing him to fumble over his own words. His mind will forever play this embarrassing moment on loop, he doesn’t need someone else to witness how completely unsmooth he is.

“Hi, Dan?” Phil teases, mimicking the way Dan made his own name sound like a question. Dan’s head falls into his hands at his own embarrassment, he peeks through his fingers to see Phil looking at him playfully. “Dan, short for _Daniel_?” The suggestive tone in which Phil says Dan’s full name leaves him breathless and in complete shock. Phil shoots Dan an amorous smirk as if knowing exactly what he’s done and looks back to his textbook.

“Yea, but, uh, Dan’s fine,” Dan finally musters, catching Phil’s attention once more. Compared to this guy who’s dripping in sex appeal, Dan sounds completely sheepish.

“Could I maybe get your number?” Phil asks. For the first time, Phil’s cheeks flush and there’s a nervousness to his voice. It’s definitely a change from the crooked grins and knowing winks that Phil’s been sending him, and seeing Phil’s nerves makes Dan feel at least somewhat better about being a mess himself. Although, this guy still seems to have it all together even when he’s stumbling over his words slightly; no one should be allowed to seem _this_ charming when they are clearly nervous.

Dan can sense his own satisfied smirk creeping onto his lips. It’s nice to have the tables turned for once. But then, the meaning of Phil’s words sinks in, and Dan’s left speechless _again_. Dan's eyes widen in confusion. There’s no way anyone that looks like _this_ – Dan’s eyes brazenly drag up and down Phils figure – wants _Dan’s_ number.

Dan clears his throat as if he’s going to say something, but when he opens his mouth nothing comes out. Full of nerves, Phil’s hopeful smile makes Dan’s heart flutter. _This boy is so damn cute there’s no way in hell Dan’s letting his anxiety get the best of him._ Dan tries again, straightening up in his chair a little. “I uh… s-sure,” he finally stutters, trying to flash Phil a bold grin like the ones Phil’s been sending him, though it definitely comes across way more eager than smooth. The response doesn’t match the fake confident persona he’s trying to let on; he averts his gaze, damaging his act even further.

Dan’s timid eyes eventually drift back to Phil's when he doesn’t get a response for a few seconds, only to find Phil already looking back at him. Their eyes continue to stay locked for longer than what Dan would usually be comfortable with, but maybe with Phil he doesn’t mind.

More seconds pass and Phil still doesn’t offer a response. Dan’s eyes eventually wander down to Phils pink lips, and Dan wets his own slightly. He can’t help but wonder what Phil’s feel like against his. Would they be smooth or rough? Would _Phil_ be rough? Would he be gentle?

Phil coughs slightly, startling Dan so his eyes jump back to Phil’s. Dan was caught blatantly staring, and the smirk on Phil’s lips suggests that he’s not particularly mad about it. “Here,” Phil finally chuckles, playfully teasing Dan. Seeming pleased with himself, he hands over his phone.

Dan’s fingers graze Phil’s as he takes hold of the device. Phil doesn’t let go immediately, his hand linger under Dan’s, and they feel marvellous as they look. Dan _really_ doesn’t want to let go; he’d happily keep sort of, kind of holding Phil’s hand like this for the rest of his life. When Phil begins pulling away, Dan’s hand automatically tenses slightly — his body is just as eager to keep touching Phil as his mind is. Phil smirks at Dan, winking when he lets go of the phone.

Shaking with nerves, Dan struggles to put his number into Phil’s contact list. It takes him three tries to type his own name out right, and it only has _three_ letters. Then he misclicks when he tries to add a the dancing man emoji, instead adding a knife emoji. Dan registers his mistake a second too late and, as an unfortunate result, ends up handing the phone back to Phil with the aggressive weapon trailing behind his name.

_Shit_.

Now he’s going to think Dan’s a lunatic.

Despite this mortifying mistake, Dan isn’t disappointed when their fingers brush again, even though it’s only brief this time. Dan just wants _more_. He wants to reach out and trail his hand from the tips of Phil’s fingers, up his slender arms and under the cuff of his t-shirt, where the skin seems slightly paler than the rest – slightly more _tempting_.

Phil types a message to Dan, causing his phone to vibrate in his pocket. Eager to see what Phil sent him, Dan opens the message from an unknown number reading the text, ‘ **It’s Phil!’** with a ridiculous abundance of silly faces and plant emojis trailing behind.

Dan pauses before adding Phil as a contact – this entire thing feels like a dream. It’s the kind of romantic fairy tale stuff that happens in the beginning of a movie or TV show, not something that happens in real life. Or at least not Dan’s.

Dan’s heart flutters as he tucks his phone back into his pocket and looks back to the book, which Phil has refocused his attention on. Phil glances up, offering Dan a quick smile before going back to reading. Dan’s heart misses a beat and he can’t be arsed to read the passage when Phil keeps looking up at him with that enchanting grin. Instead, Dan continues to glance over at the man in complete and utter astonishment.

_Had that really just happened? Had an outrageously gorgeous boy really just asked for Dan’s phone number?_

No way. It seems to good to be true.

Phil probably just wants someone to be able to text when he misses a class, that’s all. People do that all the time, right?

When Dan had went to orientation the first week of classes he had _definitely_ been advised to get to know his fellow classmates – to find means of contacting them in case there was a missed a class or someone fell ill with the flu.

That’s all this is. Dan shouldn’t get his hopes up.

What he _should_ do is take his fucking eyes off of Phil, and stop undressing the guy in his mind. Dan must be terrible at hiding the impure thoughts in his head, because Phil glances up with a knowing smirk on his lips.

A smirk that tells Dan that Phil wants his number for the _opposite_ reason. Before he can stop himself, Dan impulsively blurts out, “So like… you don’t just want my number in a friendship way right?” Dan’s voice wavers anxiously, his brain immediately berating himself.

_Holy shit._ Why did he ask that? He probably sounds stupid! Of course the guy only means it in a friendship way and now Dan’s ruined even that!

But then Phil chuckles, looking amused with a smug grin on his _very_ kissable lips. Dan doesn’t know where he got the courage to ask from, but the flirtatious look he gets from Phil makes it _so_ worth it.

“Definitely _not_ in just a friendship way,” Phil winks. He shuffles in his seat slightly, seeming as if he’s about to look to his book again, but instead Dan feels Phil’s knee press against his thigh. The skin beneath his jeans burns, feeling like it’s on bloody fire, and Dan’s entire body tenses. Trying to keep control of himself, Dan balls his hand in a fist tightly on top the table. Phil glances at Dan’s movement and chuckles slightly, clearly entertained by how hot and bothered he makes Dan.

From across the table, the girl who’d obviously been listening in squeals, then glances back down as she pretends to focus on her book.

Both Dan and Phil’s faces turn a bright shade of red. They look to the girl, then each other and when their eyes meet they both stifle laughter. Dan cringes, inwardly wishing he didn’t have a witness to any of his awkward flirting tactics.

After minute of convincing himself it wasn’t _that_ terrible, Dan feels slightly less embarrassed and his face returns to its normal shade — well, _almost_ its normal shade. There is definitely still a faint flush on his cheeks.

Needing something to distract himself from the jumble of nerves wracking his stomach, his eyes jump down shyly to the art on the front of Phil’s shirt. Muse, he likes Muse. Could this guy be any _more_ perfect?

Dan’s about to say something about it when the professor interrupts the silence across the classroom “Alright, we’ll start with,” he glances down at his clipboard, seemingly picking a name at random “Daniel Howell. What are your thoughts on the questions the text provides?”

Shit, he didn’t even read them.

_Worth it._


End file.
